Cerulean Dreams (part 15 of 20)

a Pokemon fanfiction by Nikolai Mirovich

Back to Part 14
Frank pulled Officer Jenny's squad car up in front of 'Irene's 
Textile and Coffee Shop' less than ten minutes later, thankful 
that Jenny was in no condition to complain about his driving.

"Here ya go," he said brightly, unlocking the back doors so his 
niece and her partner could leave the car, "That'll be twelve 
ninety five!"

"Oh, ha, ha," laughed Miranda sarcastically, making her Uncle 
smile and thankful to be out of the cramped back seat, "Thanks, 
though."

Frank shrugged, his infectious grin never leaving his face. "No 
problem, lady," he assured, "Just have a good time, that's all I 
ask."

Miranda nodded, putting her arm around Misty as Frank rolled up 
his window and drove away. "Thanks again!" called Misty, only half 
believing that they were finally free of the stifling, life-
draining presence of her sisters, before glancing up at Miranda 
with a happy smile. "So? Shall we...?"

***

There were two other couples in Irene's quiet little shop, which 
barely took notice as they entered, and neither could blame them. 
The establishment was in full 'coffee shop' mode, with the lights 
dimmed so that small candles on the tables were necessary, soft, 
unobtrusive music filling the air, and the smell of freshly ground 
coffee kept everyone awake whether they liked it or not. 

"Hello again," said Irene in a friendly, yet subdued tone, meeting 
them almost magically at the door as they entered, "Table for 
two?"

"Yes, please," laughed Miranda, the irony of the question 
improving her mood.

"I hope the food wasn't too bad at Troy's," the woman commented 
sullenly, leading them both to a pair of comfortable looking 
chairs with a low table between them, "I can fix you something if 
you'd like?"

"No, actually it was really good," assured Miranda, "It was just 
the company and the service we could have done without."

"Well..." said Misty, bowing her head and looking up at Irene a 
little guiltily through her bangs, "We didn't stay for desert, and 
I always have room for ice-cream. If you have it...?"

"Of course!" the woman laughed in the "think nothing of it" tone 
only a mother could muster, "All I have left, though, is 
butterscotch ripple. Is that okay?"

"Oh, fine. Just great!" laughed Misty, sitting carefully down in 
the chair that would allow her to see the entire room as Miranda 
found her way awkwardly into the one opposite.

"Stupid dress," the woman muttered, much to Misty and Irene's 
amusement.

"Gee," teased Misty, crossing her legs as Miranda finally sat down 
and smoothed out the frustrating garment, "You're even more of a 
tomboy than I am!"

Miranda finally got comfortable with her hands on the arms of the 
mauve coloured chair she sat in and smiled. "My mom's worse," she 
confessed as Irene hurried off, "She's worn a dress twice in her 
life. And both of those were wedding dresses."

Misty glanced out the window looking thoughtfully out at the dark 
street for a moment. "Miranda?" she asked quietly without turning 
to face her.

"Yes?" 

Misty took in a long slow breath, noticing the way their 
reflections eyes met on the surface of the window. "When, when 
things calm down in our lives," she began, finding it difficult to 
find the right words, "When Kathy is behind bars, and I've gone up 
against the League and maybe if you're willing to become a city 
bound courier... Would you? I mean, I know that such a thing is 
possible but..."

"Yes," repeated Miranda, leaning across the table and taking 
Misty's hand in her own, causing her beloved to turn to face her, 
"But not until we're both ready. Some things shouldn't be rushed." 

For a long moment, the two simple sat, quietly staring into each 
other's eyes until Misty realized she was shaking, and Miranda 
felt as though her heart were about to burst. "But," she said, 
bringing her lover's fingers to her lips, kissing them gently, 
"You're wearing the dress."

Misty snickered, bowing her head as she blushed. "That's 
negotiable," she promised, glancing over as Irene glided towards 
them and put down a tray between them before moving on without 
saying a word, "But thank you for the sentiment. It's good to know 
you're serious... About us I mean."

"Absolutely," promised Miranda, shaking her head at the thought of 
being anything but, "Fifty or sixty years from now I intend to be 
sitting across from you, looking into your eyes and feeling the 
same love I feel now. Only stronger."

Misty nodded, a smile that wouldn't leave set upon her face as she 
sat unable to look away for several long moments as the quiet 
sounds of the other patrons filled the void of silence that 
neither of them seemed to notice. After a while, though, the 
teapot stopped steaming, and their ice cream began to melt. The 
candles burned lower, and the ticking of a clock somewhere in the 
shop became apparent.

"Miri, I-" she began finally, at last finding the words to express 
the feelings that were overwhelming her, only to be cut off by the 
sound of the door being thrown violently open.

The noise startled nearly everyone in the restaurant, and Miranda 
lost her glasses in an attempt to turn towards the source of the 
sound that had so rudely interrupted their moment.

The doorway was now filled by a short, thin woman who looked to be 
about Irene's actual age under the fourteen layers of makeup she 
wore. The woman's wary pale blue eyes scanned the room with more 
than a hint of annoyance as the breeze blew at the long, spindly 
strands of her darkly dyed reddish hair.

"Irene!" she called out drunkenly, waving the wine glass she held 
in her hand about, slopping her drink across the hardwood floor 
and seeming not to care, "Irene, I can't take it any more!"

After leaning against the doorframe for a moment, the woman 
staggered into the room like she owned the place, and tossed her 
long, tacky looking Winter coat off her shoulders, onto the floor. 
She then proceeded to walk over to the serving counter and hit the 
little bell repeatedly, assuring the end of any special ambiance 
in the room.

"Oh, hello, Rose," said Irene in a civil tone as she came out of 
the back room knitting a long scarf that consisted of large 
alternating, varying in sized squares of light brown, purplish-
red, orange beige, off white and a rather dull shade of yellow, 
"What's wrong THIS time?"

The inebriated woman's unsteady gaze fixed on the concerned 
looking woman's face with a look of complete contempt, which Irene 
returned with a gentle smile. "What's wrong?" muttered Rose 
drunkenly, turning to Irene's patrons with an awful laugh, "What's 
wrong she says! Ha! What's wrong is that you're putting me out of 
business! That's what's wrong!"

Irene sighed sympathetically. "It happened again, didn't it?" she 
asked in her most kindly tone, but it was obvious that she was on 
the verge of laughing.

"Yes! Yes it happened again!" exclaimed Rose in an accusing tone, 
turning back to Irene and finishing her wine, "And this time there 
wasn't just one of them! This time there were a dozen! A dozen 
women standing outside my shop in wedding dresses, all laughing, 
mocking and scorning me! Me! A world-class designer, while you! 
You! Somebody's freakin' mom sits here in your little shop of 
horrors churning out several thousand-credit dresses for a few 
hundred! It's just not fair I tell you! It's not fair, Irene! It's 
not fair at all!"

"I believe that'll be quite enough, Rose," Irene said in a warning 
tone as she stepped forward, causing her uninvited guest to slowly 
back away, "Unless you want me to call Officer Frank to boot you 
out again!"

"Fine! I'll go," replied Rose, her words becoming more slurred as 
Irene ushered her outside, "But just tell me. How do you do it 
Irene? How do you do it? Just tell me!"

Irene smiled sweetly as she gave Rose a gentle shove. "It's quite 
simple, really," she said in her most sympathetic and endearing 
tone, "As you said. I'm a mom. I simply make my products with 
love!"

With that, Irene slammed the door in her competitor's face before 
turning towards her suddenly applauding patrons. "Thank you," she 
said with a wide, embarrassed smile, bowing her head as she moved 
back behind the counter where she'd left her knitting, "But I'm 
sorry you all had to see that."

Everyone seemed to agree that it was fine, but something she said 
had caught Miranda's attention. "Um, excuse me," she inquired as 
Misty chuckled while trying to eat some of her ice-cream before it 
melted, "But did you say 'Officer Frank'?"

"Why yes, dear," said Irene with a smile as her hands moved at an 
incredible rate, churning out the long scarf as though it were 
nothing, "Very nice boy. Comes in every morning, brings me a free 
newspaper and has an Irish coffee. I just wish he'd finally patch 
things up with that Laurna girl. It's all he talks about some 
days. Why? Do you know him?"

Miranda smiled, amusement shining in her eyes as she retrieved her 
glasses from the floor thankfully undamaged. "Actually, I'll be 
his niece if he ever does patch things up with her."

"Oh, I see!" chuckled Irene, "Well, be sure to point him in the 
right direction if you can. I hate to see good people so sad. Oh, 
please excuse me, duty calls..."

Miranda turned back to Misty as Irene shuffled over to one of the 
other tables, trailing her multi-coloured scarf behind her. "Small 
world, I guess," she mused, finally pouring herself some tea 
before it got too cold.

"Definitely," commented Misty watching as Irene said goodbye to 
one of the other couples, still amazed at how well the woman 
handled her offensively belligerent competitor, "But, there's 
something I'm a little concerned about."

Miranda looked up, a worried look crossing her face as she felt 
her heart sink a little. "Do tell," she encouraged, setting down 
her tea, "I'm here to listen."

Misty nodded, looking a little embarrassed. "Well, it's about 
earlier," she explained, "You know, when I found out that my 
sisters were going to be at the restaurant, and when I saw that we 
had to share a table... And once when you were on the phone, too. 
I just kinda lost my temper, and I just wanted to apologize for 
that."

Her lover's face went from baring a look of concern, to relieved 
amusement almost instantly. "You're apologizing for being 
yourself, dear?" she inquired, smiling broadly and taking Misty's 
hand, "Trust me, I went into this relationship with my eyes open. 
And you know that I don't mind that side of you. Heck, if you were 
completely shy and passive I very much doubt that you'd have even 
sparked my interest."

Misty looked thoughtful for a second and inquired mirthfully, "Are 
you saying that you only love me for my personality?" 

"Um, well I think you're really cute too!" stammered Miranda in 
mock fear as Misty laughed.

"That's better!" she replied, wagging her ice-cream laden spoon at 
the courier in a non-seriously scolding manner, causing Miranda 
laugh as well.

"But you know," said Misty finally, scooping out more ice-cream 
and swallowing it down greedily before continuing, "Violet did say 
something rather odd while you were away."

"Odd?" inquired Miranda, looking a little nervous.

"Yes," her lover continued in a half serious tone, leaning forward 
meaningfully and catching Miranda's eye, "She said that you were 
'using me'."

Miranda tried to contain a laugh, but failed. "Using you?" she 
snickered, covering her mouth as she swallowed her mouthful of 
tea.

"Misty nodded. "Pretty crazy, eh?"

The courier nodded slowly, the look in her eye an unmistakable 
sign that she'd thought of something and would burst if she didn't 
let it out. "Actually," she said conversationally, setting down 
her tea cup and poking at her mostly liquefied ice-cream, "I am."

"Really?" relied Misty, leaning back in her chair and crossing her 
arms, a slight smile crossing her face. Half-sensing what was to 
come.

Miranda nodded. "Yes," she confessed, watching as she twirled her 
spoon around the goopy mess her bowl of ice cream had become, "I 
am using you, my dear. I'm using you to have someone to talk to. 
I'm using you to have a shoulder to cry on. I'm using you as a 
source of inspiration. I'm using you to fulfill my purely selfish 
need to 'be there for someone'. But above all else-" Miranda 
glanced up at her beloved, her heart swelling as she saw the way 
Misty's sea-green eyes sparkled in the candlelight- "I'm using you 
so that I'll have someone to love. I hope you understand."

"Completely," whispered Misty, reaching out and taking Miranda's 
hand, squeezing it meaningfully as she spoke, "I love you, 
Miri..."

Onwards to Part 16


Back to Cerulean Dreams Index - Back to Pokemon Shoujo-Ai Fanfiction